


Well, You Have Me

by VanillaMostly



Category: A Tree Grows in Brooklyn - Betty Smith
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 09:38:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8885908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanillaMostly/pseuds/VanillaMostly
Summary: Francie gets a phone call on Christmas Day.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rina (rinadoll)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinadoll/gifts).



Francie knew something was wrong the moment she heard Ben’s voice. He sounded strange, but for a while she couldn’t pick up on exactly what was strange. With the noise from the phone line—and the raucous giggles and screaming from a hyperactive group of children (Laurie, Little Sissy, and Stevie, but mostly Laurie) behind her—she had to cup her hand around the earpiece and ask Ben to repeat it.

“—my mother.”

“What about your mother?”

“She’s sick, Francie. Very sick.”

Francie had never met Mrs. Blake, but she already knew a lot about this woman just from how much Ben talked about her. Suddenly the shallowness of Ben’s breathing stood out all the more.

“Where are you?”

“The University Hospital. But Francie, you don’t have to—”

“No, I’ll be there.”

She ran to the front door, pulling on her boots. Katie came out of the kitchen, followed closely by Aunt Sissy where they had been sitting and chatting, looking perplexed.

“What’s all this, Francie?”

“I have to step out for a while, Mother. I'll be back.”

“But the weather!” said Katie, frowning. “And it’s Christmas!”

It was Sissy who was the most perceptive, as usual. “Let her go, Katie. It seems important.” Aunt Sissy came over to help Francie with her coat and hat. “I hope things will be alright, sweetheart.”

“I hope so too, Aunt Sissy,” said Francie gratefully. She kissed her aunt and mother on the cheek with the promise that she would be back by dinnertime, and rushed out into the freezing cold.

*

Snow was falling heavily and the streets were icy and slippery, but Francie managed to catch a trolley and get to the hospital in good time. She found Ben sitting in the lobby, elbows on his knees, staring into space as if in a trance. It took Francie two times calling his name to get his attention.

“You came,” he said, surprised.

“Of course I did,” said Francie. She opened her arms for him and Ben, without hesitation, moved into them.

“God, Francie. I’m scared,” he whispered into her hair.

Ben _never_ admitted he was scared. Ben was not one to get scared in the first place. Not when he met the governor of Illinois; not when he stepped on stage to give a speech to hundreds of people; not when he had proposed to Francie (though he said that had made him plenty nervous). Seeing him like this, pale and shaking, Francie was even more frightened than Ben, but she tried not to show it.

“Where’s your mother?”

“They’re still treating her. They won’t let me in. It’s pneumonia...”

 _Pneumonia again,_  thought Francie, and a stab of pain coursed through her for a moment, as it always did at the memory of Johnny.

“Do you know how long?” she asked.

“They said it could be hours.”

Francie made up her mind. “Come with me, then,” she said, taking Ben by the hand.

*

She got him a cup of coffee and herself hot cocoa and they found a spot in the back of the hospital. It was partly open to the outside, but they were protected from the wind and had enough privacy. At least here, they were removed from the crowded lobby full of coughs, moans, and weeping.

Francie didn’t say much, just listened to Ben as he recounted what happened in broken sentences, his hands gripped so tight around his coffee that his fingers turned white. Ben’s mother had been mostly healthy and fine all her life, and then, just this fall, began falling ill. She hid her health problems from Ben, however, so he hadn’t known at school until he came back this winter.

“She said she didn’t want to distract me,” said Ben. He bowed his head and fell silent at that.

Francie looked at him, then looked back down at her cup.

“Well, she was right,” said Francie quietly. “You would have wanted to come home straight away.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” said Ben, his voice taut and angry. “I should have been home with her. Why did I go so far away? My mother has nobody else besides me. I left her in Brooklyn all alone. I never thought...”

“But what about your dreams, Ben?”

Ben laughed, bitter-like. “What dreams, Francie? They’re my ambitions. They’re selfish ambitions, that’s all they are.”

“Dreams and ambitions aren’t so different,” insisted Francie. “It’s what you want for yourself. It’s what you’ve worked so hard for. They count for something.”

“...maybe,” said Ben.

They said nothing for a while, as the wind howled and more snow blew in against the roof. Then Ben spoke again, this time softer, slower.

“Francie, I’ve already lost my father, but he was a vile good-for-nothing so that was no great loss. My mother and I got along better without him. But besides my mother… I have no other family. My aunt and uncle and cousins are in Boston and I don’t really know them. Sometimes I envy you, Francie, for having not just your mother but a brother, sister, and stepfather… Oh, I’m sorry,” said Ben, remembering. “Your father…”

Francie shook her head. “You’re right, Ben. My father… died,” the word still tasted too harsh on her tongue to use for Johnny, “but I still have a big family who care for me. I wouldn’t know what to do without them, either.”

“Sorry for taking you away from home on Christmas. I… honestly didn’t know who else to call. I have zero friends, you see,” said Ben in his matter-of-fact way. “Zero _true_ friends, anyway.”

“Well,” said Francie as she placed her hand over Ben’s, “you have me.”

“That’s right. I do.” Ben squeezed her hand, his first smile of the day—or even the last few days—spreading over his lips.

*

_“No, I don’t want to need anybody. I want someone to need me…!”_

A tall young man stood waiting for her in the dark, wearing a lonely, shy smile. Francie ran towards him. He strolled out from the shadows to meet her...

“Francie. _Francie_.”

She awoke, disoriented. Ben was standing over her, shaking her gently on the shoulder.

“My mother—she’s stable now!”

She stared, uncomprehending at first. Then she took in the drab white walls of her surroundings, the nurses walking past behind Ben, the chair she had been sleeping on with Ben’s coat draped over her—and jumped to her feet, grabbing Ben in a hug.

“That’s wonderful! She’ll be all right, then?”

“Well, the doctors haven’t promised anything,” said Ben, “but the worst should be over.” There was definite relief in his voice.

“I’m glad!”

“She wants to meet you,” said Ben.

Francie blanched. Ben turned away, but she caught his smirk.

“I-I’m not ready,” stammered Francie. “I didn’t have time to put on makeup and…”

“You don’t need it. You look perfect already.”

Francie blushed, but was still adamant on standing her ground. “Your mother just recovered, she ought to get some rest—”

“No excuses,” said Ben just as adamantly. He put his arm around her and began pushing her down the ward.

“You are so damn stubborn, Ben Blake!”

“So are you, Francie Nolan.”

 _"Shhhhh!"_ One of the nurses glared at them from above her clipboard, and Francie and Ben struggled to hold in their laughs.

“By the way, what were you dreaming about?”

Francie blinked. “Nothing,” she said, even as her heart twisted in guilt. _I haven’t thought of Lee in ages, but it was that dream again…_

“It must have been a good dream,” said Ben. He grinned. “Because you said my name.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I hit all parts of your prompt, and I know this was on the short and simple side, but I hope you like it!!This prompt actually took me a while... None of my other versions felt right. It took me forever but I think I'm OK with this one. xD I do like Ben, I hope I did him (and Francie) justice. Merry Christmas!


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